


wong yukhei: twunk extraordinaire™ and demigod (apparently?)

by peachxi (peachi3)



Series: fic requests [5]
Category: EXO (Band), NCT (Band), SHINee, SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Angst, Bad Humor, Demigods, Fluff, M/M, Monsters, Multi, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28780407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachi3/pseuds/peachxi
Summary: Yukhei's hot boy summer plans are put on hold when an ancient greek monster decides that he looks tasty and he's thrown headfirst into a strange world that he would've been happy to stay blissfully unaware of.Okay, maybe it's not that bad — the friends he makes are incredible, but with demigods disappearing all over Seoul and his heart being stolen by a pretty boy who can probably break his neck with his bare hands (hot), Yukhei finds himself wondering if maybe he should've just stayed home.(based on the prompt: superm as demigods)
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Series: fic requests [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1919041
Comments: 20
Kudos: 79





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to my percy jackson-shadowhunters fusion mixed with my own lore and shit.
> 
> I suck at summaries. I suck at explaining things. All I can do is dump the first chapter of this fic that was supposed be a small prompt response and run  
> ( ˙▿˙ )  
> real talk, this spiralled out of control, because when doesn't it? we already know that I'm the queen of too much lmao. I'm not sure how long this will be - hopefully like, less than 50k - but there should be an update at least fortnightly. the chapter count is definitely tentative and subject to change. buckle your seatbelts, lads, lasses and lassos, we're in this for the long haul. this first chapter is a prologue of sorts(?) but it'll get more interesting soon.
> 
> (just a disclaimer: I wouldn't necessarily call this a percy jackson au bc?? I took many, many liberties and changed a lot bc my mind never stops, so if you're here specifically for that then you may be a little disappointed? Idk man this was supposed to be 4k finished I'm just bullshitting my way through at this point uwu)

It was a lot to take in. Even more to try and wrap his head around.

Yukhei sat on a worn plastic chair that he’d found on the roof, only a few mere feet from the raised edge, as he stared out at the city. To think that for years he’d walked through these streets oblivious to the truth — not just about himself, but the city itself, and what lay beneath. The stuff he hadn’t been oblivious to his brain had simply ignored and tried to rationalise even if, in the long run, that’d been even more detrimental.

He wasn’t even sure how long he’d been out here— a few hours, maybe, since he’d managed to find this little piece of solitude. Up here, it felt like Yukhei could finally breathe and collect his thoughts.

—

The worst day of Yukhei’s life, and subsequently the beginning of the rest of it, had started a little something like this: his phone started blaring the repetitive, grating noise of his morning alarm and he rolled over to stop it, only he miscalculated where he already was on the bed and, instead of rolling onto _more_ bedding, fell and landed on the floor with a loud thud. Still half asleep, all Yukhei did was lay there on his side, shoulder aching. A subhuman groan left his lips.

His luck didn’t improve even after he got picked himself up off the floor with whatever dignity he had left. Over the course of the next hour, Yukhei spilt his orange juice on his shirt and had to switch it out, burnt his toast, and couldn’t find his favourite socks even though he _knew_ that he’d put them on his desk the night before. Yukhei felt like he was ready to just give up on his day and go back to bed — try again tomorrow — but his mother had threatened that she’d drag him out if he didn’t make an effort today. She could only be so patient and, considering how much shed let him get away with recently, Yukhei couldn’t blame her.

A week and a half — that was how long it’d been since he’d gone further than the stairs of their quaint little apartment. Since he’d dared to get into a car.

Every time he thought about it his arm twinged in pain, as did the still healing bruises and cut on his temple. The bruises, once a viscous painting of black and purple across his skin like a frantic patchwork, had now mostly faded to sickly shades of green and yellow. The stitches in his forehead had pretty much completely dissolved by that point, too. They were the only proof he had that the night had really happened. That the whole thing hadn’t just been a figment of his imagination like the rest.

Yukhei knew he couldn’t keep himself in there forever, but he . . . he just still couldn’t put that night out of his head.

His eighteenth birthday should’ve been a joyous occasion, and it had been for the most part. It’d been a perfect day surrounded by friends and then, long after the sun had gone down, he’d been driving back home when everything went to shit. The thing was, Yukhei still didn’t know exactly what had happened that night, because the things he _did_ remember didn’t make sense, and the few things he’d apparently slurred when the ambulance had pulled up to the scene had been delusions; a result of his brain being unable to process traumatic events.

A dog, they’d said, even though the front of his mother's car had looked more like it’d been wrapped around a tree. A dog, even though the car had flipped and rolled numerous times down a small embankment. A dog, even though Yukhei could still recall the absolute horror and dread which had seized him as he’d seen— well, a dog, apparently.

They said he must’ve been tipsy and slow to react when it crossed the road, even though by the time they ran any sort of toxicology there was nothing in his system. Even if they’d done it right away they would’ve found exactly that: nothing. Yukhei didn’t need alcohol to have a good time and he hadn’t touched a single drop of it, knowing that he would be driving.

He had a feeling even his mother didn’t believe him. She’d been upset about the car, obviously, but she’d been more worried about him. The car had been absolutely totalled yet, miraculously, he’d escaped with what could only be described as extremely minor injuries considering the wreckage— dark bruises, a handful of stitches and some cuts, not even so much as a broken bone. The doctors hadn’t been able to make sense of it. Yukhei couldn’t blame them because he was just as lost.

And, of course, he was still having trouble venturing out, too. The thing was, he’d always been a bit of a socialite, not in the sense that he was overly popular but in the way that he tried to get along with absolutely everyone. Yukhei had rarely ever gone so long without going out somewhere, whether it was for lunch with some of his classmates — old classmates, now that he’d graduated — or to the mall, or even just wandering around with nothing but his own company. Restlessness was one of the few constants in his life. Yukhei was always filled with boundless energy to the point that sometimes it felt physically painful to stay still which the doctors had brushed off as ADHD at a young age, but years of unsuccessful medications and attempts at containing it had left him where he was now: trying to deal with it on his own.

Today it was going to end, though, because the whole world wasn’t going to combust if he walked down the street and spent some time away from the safety of their apartment.

It was what drove Yukhei to push through it all even if the universe seemed to be throwing him consistent signs that it was a bad idea right up until the moment he left, kissing his mother’s cheek and promising her that he’d be back within a few hours.

Yukhei set one shoe out onto the pavement, waited, and . . . nothing happened. He let out the breath that he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and ruffled a hand back through dark brown before readjusting the strap of his shoulder bag and starting off down the street. It would’ve been infinitely easier just to catch the bus but it wasn’t going to hurt him to walk the distance instead, especially considering he’d kept himself inside for so long — he felt like all of his nerves were buzzing with energy despite the fact he hadn’t exactly gotten a lot of sleep last night, or the night before . . . or the one before that. Every night lately had been filled with restlessness and a constant theme of him waking up to cold sweats with no recollection of his dreams. Only the remnants of his terror.

Even now that prickle at his nape seemed to follow him everywhere like a bad smell. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling to Yukhei but the difference was that growing up, it was only every so often, and usually only for a day or two, never like _this_. Idly, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was suffering from some sort of trauma-induced psychotic break — what else could describe this? He felt irrationally paranoid and on edge and his reflexes felt as though they were dialled up to eleven because hearing one of the neighbourhood dogs bark as he passed had Yukhei jumping nearly a foot into the air.

“Give a man a break,” he muttered with one hand still hovering over his pounding heart even as he reached over the fence to give her the pats she was so obviously demanding. Yukhei had a little bit a reputation for being a dog whisperer. Not that he could actually talk to them, of course. That would be ridiculous. But even the most antisocial, meanest of dogs seemed to melt under his charm. It was a good talking point at parties and people seemed to love it, though none more than Yukhei himself. He _loved_ dogs.

The feeling didn’t leave him, not once, but it became a little easier to push to the back of his mind as his faded vans scuffed along the footpath, and even easier to ignore once the city houses began to shift into taller buildings that were more catered towards businesses. Here, Yukhei was just another face in a vast city that would always feel a little bit unfamiliar. Rather than feeling lost in the endless ocean of faces, he found comfort. If there was one thing that could be said about him it was that he was certainly a people person.

The cold, wet condensation of his Starbucks order clung to his hand as he made his way out of the store, a sandwich tucked into the small bag at his side; Yukhei had been planning to sit inside to eat but things seemed particularly busy today and, even after waiting a few minutes, no one had offered any sign they’d be moving anytime soon. That was okay, though. He’d just adapt like he always did. It was what Yukhei was best at even if never quite felt _right_.

The plan _had_ been to find a bench or seat to settle himself on so that he could enjoy his lunch. The plan _had_ been to ignore that growing sensation of wrongness which seemed to creep into every inch of his body as he walked along a little faster, ducking and weaving amongst the other pedestrians with his head ducked low as every hair on his body stood on end. The plan had thrown out the window much like the way his precious java chip frappuccino had been thrown from his hands as he was suddenly yanked with considerable force into the alley he’d been passing by his arm.

“ _Dude_ , what the hell are you doing just walking around like that?” Yukhei stared wide-eyed at his assailant. The man couldn’t be much older than him, if at all, and he was definitely a bit shorter, but not necessarily petite. His face was inherently masculine with a strong jawline and chiselled cheekbones that looked like they were carved from marble. Hell, the guy looked like one of those perfect statues he’d seen in tenth grade during his class’s excursion to the museum. Dark, messy hair framed his face and his eyes seemed nearly as dark in the shade of the buildings surrounding them.

Yukhei barely had a second to process the situation before there was a sickly, bone-chilling noise reverberating through the alley that made every hair on his body stand on end. Cheekbones (as Yukhei’s mind supplied, lacking a real name) cursed and pulled something up from his side.

“ _Duck!”_ Pure instinct had him obeying the order; he ducked down faster than he knew he was capable of and something whizzed over his head, landing with a wet thud that earned another growl.

Yukhei turned. The first thing he noticed was that his assailant was _holding_ _a literal hunting bow_ and that even though the quiver on his back was empty, each time he reached back for another one would materialise, shimmering as though it was comprised of nothing but golden light. The second was that he was shooting at something. The third, and perhaps most important, was the monstrous creature hulking into the alleyway from where he’d just been in the street, heading right for them.

His whole stomach dropped and his heart was caught in an icy embrace that spread throughout his whole body, pinning Yukhei to the spot as he stared down . . . he wasn’t sure what it was, only that it was hauntingly familiar.

_There was a pleasant buzz thrumming under Yukhei’s skin as he drove down the long, isolated road, and it had nothing to do with alcohol. He felt . . . god, he felt like he was on top of the world — it felt like the start of the rest of his life. He was alone save for the steady rumble of the car underneath him and the illuminated road that constantly shifted under his headlights, framed by the dark trunks of the trees and the grass which bordered the edges of the asphalt. It was serene, though._

_Until it wasn’t._

_It all happened so fast that Yukhei’s mind struggled to comprehend what was happening, his body spurring into action before he even realised. As he rounded another bend in the road, a dog came into view in the middle of his path— no, dog wasn’t the word for it. It stood easily as tall as him though perhaps even a little taller, with short-cropped hair that nearly made it appear bald and bulging muscles that only added to the wrongness of it. The most apparent thing, though, was the fact it had two heads, heads which were filled with sharp, dagger-like teeth that were dripping with saliva._

_Yukhei slammed on the breaks but no one could’ve been quick enough to avoid such an obstacle — the force of the impact made his teeth rattle and the airbag hit him only a split second later with enough momentum to leave his ears ringing. The world seemed to fall silent and all he could feel was_ pain _, blinding pain in every inch of his body._

_And then the car went flying. He wasn’t sure which direction or what’d caused it, all he knew was that it felt like he was floating despite the fact he was strapped into his seat, and those few precious seconds when he was airborne were . . . weightless, both physically and mentally. Yukhei’s fear slipped away and was replaced by a calm sort of acceptance as his mind rationalised that he was probably going to die and that there was nothing he could do about it._

_Another impact as the car slammed into something and rolled a few more times, he thought, though Yukhei couldn’t be completely sure what was happening by that point. Faintly he registered that he was upside down which explained the way everything was rushing to his still-pounding head, but then again, that could’ve just been the injuries. Yukhei’s vision drifted in and out of the darkness where he hung, suspended by his seatbelt, blood running down his temple, and he watched blearily as a lumbering figure approached the wreck, accompanied by a victorious howl that made his blood run cold._

_Yukhei’s eyes wavered and he let out a shaky noise as he drifted towards the brink of unconsciousness; faintly he could hear the sound of a car in the distance, followed by shouting, but he passed out before he could truly register it._

He stared at the creature that he’d been faced with on that road and, once again, he was helpless. That fateful night could be explained away as hallucinations even if he now knew that they’d been far from it, but this? How could any of this be explained? Only a few meters away people walked past the alleyway with no clue as to what was happening within. The other boy had what seemed to be a magic bow. There was a _monster_.

Why, out of all things, did it have to be a fucking _dog_ _?_

“This thing has been tailing you all morning — don’t just stand there!” Yukhei snapped out of his stupor and took a step back as he realised that the dog, despite the arrows it was being barraged with, was advancing his way; a foul stench filled the alley and spittle dripped from its maw, black eyes focused on him and him alone with a single-minded focus.

He could run. If he ran out into the street right now, Yukhei didn't think they’d follow, at least not now, but if this had happened twice in as many weeks he knew this won’t be the last time. Then again, maybe he was wrong — maybe it would chase him and the moment his back was turned he’d be dinner for some mutant dog on steroids.

Cheekbones was trying to steer the dog’s attention away from him (though his efforts seemed futile) with arrow after arrow and loud, half-nonsensical yelling. “Come on you overgrown chihuahua — don’t I look nice and tasty too?” Evidently not, because as he stared into those horrific, sentient eyes filled with hunger and rage, Yukhei realised that it was getting ready to strike at him. Powerful hind legs constructed of pure muscle were coiled and ready to pounce, sharp claws scratching against the asphalt beneath.

For the second time since he’d turned eighteen, Yukhei realised that he was probably going to die.

The stranger shouted something that he couldn’t discern over the pounding of his heartbeat in his head, his breathing slow and shaky as he watched all of that tension spill over and, to his horror, the monster launch itself right at him. The thing is, Yukhei had never fought a day in his life. He’d never done any sort of martial arts. Never even a schoolyard scrap, to be completely honest, just a bit of shoving. Despite that, his body seemed to know what to do, even if it didn’t seem to have the skill to execute it — the world seemed to move in slow motion yet simultaneously fast forward, too.

His arm flew out to the side to reach for something that it seemed to know was there before he even did, and his fingers curled around something cold and smooth: metal. A trashcan lid was brought back in front of him as one foot slid back to brace himself for the impending impact; for a split second there was nothing, and then it hit. It was like _he_ was the one being hit by a car this time. The sheer power behind the creature was enough to have him being knocked flying to the ground regardless of how hard he’d tried to ready himself for it. All of the air was ripped from his lungs as heavy paws pinned his shoulders to the ground, those wicked claws piercing through the barrier of his shirt and cutting through his skin like he was made of butter.

A pained cry was forced from his throat and dark spots danced across his vision from the sheer agony of it, but Yukhei’s hands which had still been raised swung into action, jamming the lid into the creature’s mouth the moment those teeth started towards him. It’s jaw unhinged wide enough that the whole circumference fit in there, catching on yellowed teeth and finding a spot behind some of them, wedging into place in a way that only human hands could probably remove. It began to frantically shake its head in an effort to dislodge the lid, spittle flying all over him and the moment that its paws shifted enough for him to got some leverage he somehow managed to wrench himself away. Yukhei was running on pure adrenaline as he dragged himself away from the beast.

Cheekbones seemed to use the opportunity to unleash another assault on the creature but for some reason, his arrows weren’t landing; half of them were just skidding off its skin like they were made of paper and the rest were flying around the alley — one even landed a few inches from his arm, clattering down to the ground. Heaving breaths shuddered out of him as he reached for it, finger twitching as white-hot pain radiated through his shoulders.

A sharp shout snapped him out of it and he whipped his head around so fast it nearly gave him whiplash, though he was more concerned with the sight of his supposed saviour being thrown against the wall so hard there was a loud, audible thud, his bow wrenched away from him. The hound had finally managed to work the trashcan lid free after the formidable force of its jaws slowly bent it down, and now it looked more pissed than ever.

Yukhei wasn’t sure where the bravery came from. Then again, maybe it was stupidity, plain and simple. Either way, it was probably a byproduct of all the adrenaline, because it simply wasn’t logical for him to jump into the fight after he’d already been injured with no idea what exactly he was supposed to do. All he knew was he couldn’t just . . . he couldn’t just leave the guy to die.

His whole body trembled a he stood yet he felt driven by some unknown force — almost as though someone else was piloting his body — as he gripped the arrow tighter in his palm and started running towards the beast; it was so preoccupied that, by the time one hideous head swung around towards him, he was already on top of it. His mother was going to kill him for this. Yukhei latched on as best he could and slammed the arrow down with all the force he could muster, even as one arm was suddenly caught in razor-like teeth that shredded down until white-hot sparks ricocheted through his left side, even as an animalistic screech made his ears pop, even as he heard the guy cry out for him to be careful. Yukhei was ripped from the beast and rag-dolled for a few moments before he too went flying, hitting the brick building behind him hard enough to feel a distinctive _crack_.

Yukhei had never been a hero. _What a terrible idea to play at being one_ , was all he thought as pain exploded through his back and he finally passed out. This time, he welcomed the emptiness that followed


	2. chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yukhei (unfortunately) wakes up, only to find out that he wasn't dreaming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! it feels like such a long time since I've posted. I had this pre-written which is the only reason why I have something for this week given that I've had a lot of trouble writing lately. I hope you're all doing wonderful!
> 
> a little bit of set-up and introductions here but we will be starting to get into some more action and interactions the next chapter :) I hope you all enjoy this chapter.
> 
> (for the characters who's heritage I haven't mentioned, I'd love to hear your guesses!)

Waking up wasn’t a pleasant process as it should’ve been. The only good thing about it was that Yukhei could guess from the pain that he was still alive. Somehow. It wasn’t blinding, mind-numbing pain, not like _before_ , but it wasn’t nothing, either. There was no overwhelming sharpness to it, only a steady, low ache in his bones and a warmth that made it feel almost comforting. That could’ve been due to his surroundings too, though.

His eyes felt like they were glued shut, yet he could feel everything growing more and more tangible as his mind washed away the last remnants of his sleep. There were pillows under his head and a warm, soft blanket over him that’d been tucked up to just under his chin, not unlike you would for a child. It was oddly reassuring.

Finally, after what felt like an absolute eternity, dark, chestnut eyes fluttered open, eyelashes dragging over his cheeks as he blearily tried to get them open and focusing on his surroundings. The room was wholly unfamiliar with a white ceiling that sported faint floral trims around the edges and a soft grey wallpaper plastered on the walls. The bed was all muted shades of blue and green with a faint angular pattern printed on the fabric. His fingers pressed into the material and then relaxed, almost kneading at it in an effort to get his body back online.

“You’re finally awake,” a voice startled him. Yukhei practically jumped and, just like that, he wasn’t having trouble moving anymore, not with the way he scrambled back and half sat against the headboard, his eyes wide and focused on the unknown face that was staring right back at him. He was probably of an average height with platinum blond hair that was pushed back messily out of his face and framed what Yukhei could only describe as kind features. His eyes were curved and sparkling where he stood with his hip cocked against the doorway, a warm smile curled at his lips in a way that puffed his cheeks up just a little. He _looked_ nice, but that didn’t change the fact that Yukhei had no idea who he was and was on the verge of having a panic attack.

“Hey— shit, just breathe,” Puppy Eyes reassured as he moved forward, setting the glass of water he’d been carrying down on the bedside table before he reached out to set a hand on his shoulder, albeit a little tentatively. “You’re safe, okay? Nothing can get you here.”

“Where is _here_?” Yukhei managed once his voice began to cooperate. “Why am I even here — _who are you?_ ”

“One question at a time,” the stranger interrupted softly. “First of all, I’m Baekhyun — I’m a friend. _Here_ is a refuge for people like you and me, somewhere where we can live without fear of being hunted down by things like . . . well. Nasty thing you had trailing you, you know? Orthrus hasn’t been topside in a long time so your parent must be someone pretty special, right?”

Yukhei blinked once, then twice. “My mother works in a restaurant?” he answered, absolutely flummoxed.

The grin on Baekhyun’s face was instantly wiped away and replaced by something more reserved and sympathetic.

He’d laughed in Baekhyun’s face the moment he began explaining the situation. Well, _his_ situation. It wasn’t Yukhei’s proudest moment, but the panicked, uncontrollable laughter had come out regardless, because of course it did. Baekhyun had started talking about _gods_. Plural. _Greek_ gods, of all things. Almighty, magical beings — one of which, apparently, was his father. It sounded like an absolute farce, the ravings of a mad man, yet Baekhyun had been deadly serious as he spoke and infinitely patient even as Yukhei had endured what could only be described as a moderate mental breakdown.

“It’s impossible,” Yukhei insisted.

“Not really. What, you think that they just stick to their side of the world? I mean, admittedly there aren’t as many _greek_ demigods in Korea, but that’s why we’ve all got to stick together.”

More than the disbelief and confusion, there’d been a sickening sense of realisation as Baekhyun had continued talking, because Yukhei . . . he couldn’t pretend that it didn’t make sense, and he _hated_ that he heard any inkling of truth in what he was being told. He’d always been normal. Well, as normal as everyone else, right? He didn’t — god, he was supposed to be hearing back from universities soon, not sitting here having his whole world turned upside down. Certainly not having things trying to kill him, like Baekhyun was warning him about.

“I would say it’s pretty unheard of for someone as old as you _not_ to know that they’re one of us. To be honest . . . well, I haven’t heard of anyone your age being able to survive _completely_ on their own — it’s a miracle that you’ve held out this long. It depends on the demigod and who their parent is but, typically, the older you get, the stronger you get, which means the more they can sense you. It’s like a big neon sign that gets brighter and brighter and says ‘eat me’.”

When Yukhei panicked about the fact it was the next day, Baekhyun simply reassured him that they’d gone through his phone (respectively) and messaged his mother on his behalf, saying that he was staying at a friend’s house for now. One day at a time, right? Yukhei felt like that was going to be the only way he got through. Maybe not even a day at a time — an hour sounded more reasonable.

Of course, Yukhei also had questions about himself. About why he only sported minor scrapes and bruises rather than the horrific injuries he remembered enduring, to start with. Baekhyun just chuckled at that and handed him another cup of some odd, golden drink which tasted, bizarrely enough, like the beef hotpot he and his mother always ate together. “We’ve got a few tricks up our sleeves.”

“Thank you.”

“Like I said, you’re not alone in this, Yukhei — come on, I want you to met someone.”

And so he’d finally been able to put a name to the face of the boy from the alley — Mark. Mark thanked _him_ for saving his life, as though he’d been anything other than stupid, but he’d barely been able to finish before Yukhei had been rushing to return the sentiment. Mark owed him nothing that day, not really, but he’d still brought him back here— hell, he’d intervened in the first place. Yukhei’d had no clue that he was being followed. He probably would’ve been dead before he could get home if not for Mark who’d put himself in harm’s way for his own sake.

“Like, seriously, you were sort of incredible out there. Are you sure you haven’t trained before? You took down _Orthrus_.” Yukhei didn’t understand what that meant, but he still flushed under the praise, trying to brush it off.

Mark was nice. He was the sort of guy that Yukhei felt like he would’ve gotten along with in school and, despite the fact that their first meeting had been terrible and Mark had been utterly lethal, he was a lot more, uh, reserved now. Yukhei wouldn’t say shy, because that wasn’t the right word for it, but a little softer, less scary. More like a friend than a mysterious stranger.

“Is it— who’s your . . .” he trailed off at tone point, nervously pushing his hair back, and Mark stared at him for a few moments before laughing quietly. Baekhyun joined in, much to his dismay.

“You can’t just ask someone who their parent is,” Baekhyun offered in a sing-song tone, making Yukhei pale a bit before he clapped his shoulder and laughed even more. “I’m joking— Mean Girls. Ask away, kid.”

“Apollo,” Mark offered with a small smile. Yukhei hadn’t necessarily paid the most attention to the few lessons they’d spent in eighth grade learning about Greece, but he at least remembered the guy with the bow. Something about the sun, right? That definitely made sense when looking at Mark.

Something painfully curious and, dare he say it, excited settled in his chest as Yukhei turned to look at Baekhyun, then, eyes expectant. “Dionysus.” Uh . . . “God of wine and ecstasy,” the elder elaborated with a wink. Yukhei tried not to let the redness to his ears show, instead nodding and letting his smile grow. That was cool too.

“What about me?” He asked before he could help himself, only to falter when the pair shared a look he couldn’t decipher.

“Well,” Mark started, “we don’t really know. We figured you might have an idea, but obviously, you know, that’s not the case. Hey— don’t worry though, okay? It’ll become pretty obvious over time and, even then, we usually find out pretty soon after we get here. You’ll probably be acknowledged by whoever your parent is soon.”

—

Yukhei’s eyes stung a little and he kicked his legs out a little further. His neck rolled before he allowed his head to hang back freely, staring up at the sky above him which was starting to grow a little darker, tainted with stunning shades of pink and orange as the sun started to set. God (though he supposed that was _gods_ , now), he just . . . he wanted to go _home_. He wanted to blink and wake up from this like it was a bad dream, pretend it never happened — even as Yukhei thought about that he knew it wasn’t possible.

This wasn’t just about him, not any more. Baekhyun had been blatantly honest with him even if it was painful to hear what he’d had to say. Now that things had started, they couldn’t just _stop_ ; he couldn’t wish them away or turn a blind eye to what’d happened. He’d be hunted until he was caught and killed — painfully, brutally, by some sort of ancient creature like the two-headed dog. No one around him would be safe.

His mother was oblivious to it and he couldn’t allow her to be dragged into this. For all she knew he was just a normal boy that was the result of a summer fling with some leather-clad bikie who’d left her high and dry before she’d even known she was pregnant. That much had become obvious after he’d spoken to her on the phone and reassured her that he was okay and, for now, just staying with some friends.

Yukhei knew he couldn’t use that excuse forever.

—

Apparently there were around sixty people living in this mysterious, confusing building, thought Yukhei had only met a two so far. Mark and Baekhyun, obviously, and then, as the pair lead him through the grey halls of the complex and into an elevator, another one. The man stepped into the elevator in a rush when it’d stopped, large eyes like endless pools that seemed to reflect stars back at him and faded navy hair that hung over his forehead haphazardly, and instantly split into a grin so wide and welcoming that it caught him off guard. “You must be Yukhei. I’m so glad you’re awake, you had us worried sick,” he murmured hospitably as the elevator doors closed behind him. A soft chime came over the speakers and then it started going up again.

“This is Taeyong,” Baekhyun offered when Yukhei was obviously lost for words, his eyes growing impossibly fond as he reached out to set a hand on the smaller male’s shoulder. It was a lingering touch that was accompanied by a small squeeze and Yukhei didn’t miss it; he’d always been good at reading people, or so he thought, and he knew that wasn’t the sort of touch that was wholly platonic. Based on the way that Taeyong looked at Baekhyun, too, Yukhei felt like he’d hit the nail on the head.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Yukhei said genuinely, hand twitching as he planned to offer it before he thought better. Was that too formal? Probably. God, he was so out of his depth here. Any speculation he had about the nature of their, er, friendship, was wiped away when the elevator once again came to a halt and rocked on the balls of his feet to press a small, innocent kiss on Baekhyun’s cheek before slipping out the door.

“You too! Don’t be a stranger.”

All Yukhei could do was nod and stare, a little dumbstruck even as the doors closed again, and when Baekhyun chuckled he tried to shake it off. “Don’t worry, Taeyong tends to have that effect on everyone. He’s quite . . . _magical_.”

There was silence for a long moment and then Mark laughed, a loud, sharp noise which filled the carriage. “Hyung, that was a terrible joke.”

Yukhei just cocked his head. “I don’t get it.”

Smiling, Baekhyun shifted to pat his shoulder almost sympathetically, and said, “don’t worry, you will. Eventually. Now, if we’re going to get along you _really_ need to start laughing at my jokes.”

—

There were few single rooms in the building, according to Mark, which was why he’d be rooming with another demigod. “Ten is great, though,” the other male reassured as they all stepped out of the elevator on yet another floor. Yukhei wasn’t sure how many there actually were, or even what this building really was, _where_ , only that it was apparently only a few blocks from the incident in the alley which coincidentally meant it couldn’t be more than twenty minutes from his apartment. To think that he’d been living so close for years with no clue.

“Of course Ten’s great,” Baekhyun laughed as he lead them to a specific door and set his hand on the handle, “the only thing you’ll need to worry about is, uh . . . noise?”

Before Yukhei could question exactly what the elder meant by that he was pushing the door open, which sort of . . . lent itself to the warning. The room was rather spacious and sported two generously sized beds on opposite walls, with a large, open space between them. Each side of the room was nearly identical underneath all the decorations, though the side that was occupied was filled with things compared to the near clinical emptiness of the other. Clothes hung from the handle of the cupboard like decorations and there was art on the walls, mostly black and white drawings with a splash of colour here and there. Fairy lights hung from the ceiling, hanging over a bed filled with endless pillows and soft rugs that was currently housing two figures.

Like everyone else so far, they were the sort of beautiful which belonged on magazine covers, not in front of him. The one reclining against the wall, half-sitting with a book balanced in one hand, sported ashy blond hair with a distinct undercut, hair slicked back off his forehead. His eyes were half-lidded as he read yet opened a little wider and flickered towards them when the door opened, plush lips parting ever so slightly as the fingers he was carding through the second male’s hair paused in their motion.

A mess of dark hair that fell in loose waves was a majority of what Yukhei noticed until the man shifted his head towards them a little more, revealing sharp eyes and a slightly upturned nose, as well as numerous piercings. Mark coughed awkwardly behind him as the man stretched out a little where he was sprawled over the other’s lap with his head pillowed on his thigh, not unlike a cat, before sitting up.

“Hey,” he drawled leisurely, a wide grin curling across his lips that seemed to brighten the whole room. “This is the new guy, right? Didn’t think you’d be up and moving around so quickly or I would’ve cleaned up.” Cleaned up? The room was clean, Yukhei figured, just very lively. Definitely cleaner than his room back home. Not that it was hard to beat that.

“I’m Ten — luckily for you, my old roomie traded out, so now you get the pleasure of bunking with me,” the man — Ten — spoke up as he pushed himself up off the bed to stand, dressed in a casual pair of sweats and a sweatshirt that seemed just a little too big. “And _you_ must be Yukhei. Gods, it’s nice to have a fresh face around here. How are you liking things so far?”

“Ten,” the second guy spoke up, voice soft yet firm as he put his book down and stood, too, “give him some room to breathe.” Yukhei figured that the man meant it figuratively rather than literally for the simple fact that Ten was still a few feet away; even so, he had the sort of personality that filled every corner of the room. It was carefree and fun but not too overbearing, either. Yukhei hoped that they got along well because he seemed like the sort of person that it’d be nearly impossible not to end up befriending.

“I’m Taemin,” the blond added with a kind, albeit reserved smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Yukhei. I’ll go so that you can get settled, but if you need anything just let Ten know and he’ll be more than happy to help.” It was nice, really — everyone he’d met so far had been so incredibly kind and welcoming, even though there was absolutely no reason for them to be. He was just a stranger, after all; they owed him nothing.

He wasn’t ashamed to admit that it was a little nerve-wracking (and awkward) when Baekhyun and Mark left, as well as Taemin who, to be honest, was quite the enigma. From what Yukhei could gather just from how he’d seen them interact and the fact that Ten’s full-size mirror had numerous polaroids with the two side-by-side, they seemed to be dating; the fact that one of said polaroids sported the pair smiling into a kiss only solidified that. It made sense that pretty people were drawn to one another.

Yukhei was right in assuming that he’d get along with Ten, though — they’d only just met yet the other was extremely accomodating and friendly. “I’m pretty chill, as long as you don’t snore — I like my sleep,” he warned as he grabbed a plastic basket, the sort that he was used to seeing in the laundry at home, from over near his bed before holding it out with a sparkle in his eyes. “Obviously you can decorate how ever you like, as long as it’s on your side, but I figured it might be nice to . . . you know. Have something just for you in the meantime. I didn’t have much time to prepare but it’s sort of a _thing_ around here.” Something uncomfortably tight caught in Yukhei’s throat as he stared down at the contents.

It was . . . it was something so simple, really. Nothing overly fancy — just a soft, fuzzy blanket that he instantly wanted to bury his face in as well as a few other smaller things, like a plastic star light in a pleasant shade of yellow and a box of chocolate-chip cookies. On top of it all was a black chord — a necklace, he realised — with a silver pendant hanging from it; it was an odd one, one he’d certainly never seen before, in the shape of an irregular triangle made of three overlapping ovals, all pointed at the ends, mounted on a circle.

Simple, yes, but to think that Ten had put this together for him once he’d known they’d be sharing a room, that he’d picked these things for him specifically, it . . . it’d been a rough day, okay? Yukhei couldn’t be blamed for the way his eyes began to burn a little, hands curling around the edges of the basket enough that the plastic handles hurt just a little. He struggled to clear the lump in his throat and forced down the urge to cry like a baby. Hopefully his eyes weren’t too misty as he looked back to Ten.

“Thank you. It’s perfect— I really appreciate it, Ten.” If Ten noticed his struggle (which, let's be honest, he probably did) he didn’t comment on it.

“Don’t mention it.”

So yes, Ten was great. It certainly wasn’t any fault of his own that Yukhei felt a little trapped in those four walls and wholly overwhelmed, he just _did_. Thankfully he didn’t ask any questions when Yukhei said he was going to walk around a little, maybe explore — he’d just nodded and told him not to be scared to ask people if he needed anything.

It wasn’t that he needed anything, but Yukhei had so many more questions, far more than even Baekhyun had been able to answer when he’d first woken up. It felt like they were endless. He knew what this place was, in theory, but not the details about it, or why this place was safe, or what the point of being here was other than the apparent safety. He didn’t know what they expected of him. He didn’t know what was supposed to change now he knew the truth. That being said, he didn’t think he was up to get any more answers today. Yukhei already had far too much to process, which was how he found himself on the roof.

Yukhei hadn’t expected anything much when he’d taken the elevator up as far as he could, honestly. It’d been aimless wandering on that top floor, minutes of navigating halls but not daring to open doors, before he’d found a set of stairs that he’d followed up to the rooftop. It was like the universe knew exactly what he needed.

There was what seemed to be a large, domed greenhouse on one side, though the glass was glazed and there didn’t seem to be a door up here, which meant he had no idea what was inside. Other than that there wasn’t much to be seen, other than one old, green lawn chair and the view of the city. This building wasn’t the tallest one on the horizon yet it granted Yukhei with a rather spectacular outlook; in many ways, he felt like he was seeing the city for the first time.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed up there. It’d been afternoon by the time Yukhei had settled into the seat but now the sun was beginning to dip much lower in the sky, pinks and oranges growing darker and less saturated as the minutes ticked by, uninterrupted. It was him, his thoughts, and the steady inhale and exhale of his breath as his mind wandered.

Yukhei knew he couldn’t hide up here forever. He squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled one more time, deeply, as he tried to centre himself, before opening them again and pulling himself up onto his feet. It’d be fine, all he had to do was think of it like a vacation, right? Summer camp, except there was no camping and he didn’t really know anyone and he wouldn’t be going home—

 _Nope_. Not doing this now, not again. Everything was going to be just fine.

Getting back into the building was easy. So was finding the elevator, to a point. What wasn’t easy was what came afterwards; Yukhei had no fucking clue what floor he’d come from. He hadn’t been paying nearly as much attention to where he’d been going when he’d been with Baekhyun and Mark, let alone when he’d been wandering after he’d left Ten, and his room. The room he couldn’t for the life of him remember how to get to.

Not wanting to admit defeat, Yukhei wandered around some more on the level he thought might be the right one — the seventh (why there were nearly twenty floors he had no idea), because there were a decent amount of doors, admittedly spaced further apart. None of them looked familiar. If he was being honest, the floor itself didn’t look familiar, and he’d already been snooping around it for a solid ten minutes with no luck. All he’d managed to find so far was a bathroom, based on the signs, and an open common area filled with comfy looking seats and a positively giant LCD TV that was practically calling to him. Not now, but soon.

It was just his luck when one of the doors ahead of him slid open and numerous voices filled the air, followed by a group of people.

To be fair, all of the people he’d met so far had been incredibly attractive, but these people? Wow. These people were unrealistically beautiful, almost ethereal, really, to the point that all Yukhei could do for a few moments was stand in the middle of the hall and stare, dumbfounded. There were five of them — three men and two women — and they all looked like they’d just stepped off the runway even if they were dressed in what he could only describe as gym clothes, most of them a little sweaty and flustered. They were all together yet one of the men trailed a little further behind, not as active in the friendly chatter.

The thing was, Yukhei wasn’t the sort to get flustered easily. Hell, his friends had always said he was utterly shameless, in the best possible way, though. He was a people person — this should’ve been easy. Instead there were butterflies clawing at his insides as he forced his feet into motion and approached them, nervously pushing his fringe back and then dropping his hand when one of them (a guy a little shorter than him with bleach-blond hair and dark roots, as well as a blinding smile) seemed to notice him. The others followed suite.

“Uh, hi,” he offered, instantly kicking himself. They all giggled a little, but not in a way that he could perceive as malicious or with ill intentions — if anything if made him relax a little.

“Hi,” Blondie replied, water bottle in hand. “You must be the new guy, right?”

“That’s me. Yukhei. Look, uh, sorry for interrupting, but— honestly? I’m sort of a little lost.”

Another, deeper chuckle that came from the man by Blondie’s side; he was probably around Yukhei’s height with pastel pink hair and what Yukhei could only describe as probably one of the most aesthetically perfect faces he’d ever seen. Extremely masculine and defined, but still . . . pretty, if that made sense? Those dimples were a killer. “It happens to all of us, don’t worry about it. This place is a bit of a maze so it takes a while to get used to. Where did you want to go?”

It was a little unfair just how nice everyone was being. It was great, obviously, but a part of Yukhei was desperately searching for a reason to hate it here and, much to his dismay, that was becoming more and more unlikely with every moment that passed.

“Just back to my room. Sorry, I don’t remember which floor, but I’m with Ten if that helps?”

Before any of them could answer another voice reached his ears, one that had him, well, a little weak in the knees. It was incredibly smooth, with that perfect level of depth and warmth to it that would catch anyone’s attention; the guy hadn’t even said it very loud, but somehow Yukhei knew there was no way anyone would’ve missed it. “I can take you back if you’d like. Either to your room or to the dining hall if you’re hungry — Ten will be there.”

A fifth face, one he hadn’t gotten a look at until now, moved closer to the front of the group. He was . . . if the others looked ethereal, then this guy looked like he could be a god himself. Hell, maybe he was — Baekhyun hadn’t really told him what sort of people to expect around here, just that there were people like him, but maybe that wasn’t all he should be looking out for. Yukhei felt like if you looked up perfection in the dictionary, this guy’s face would probably be printed right beside it.

He was tall — easily Yukhei tall, from what he could gather — with broad shoulders and fairly muscular but still lean build that he somehow made look effortless; he had a more square jawline and defined cheekbones as well that lead to lips that Yukhei was definitely not going to stare at, because he wasn’t a creep, as well as as a rounded nose and eyes that seemed to have a natural, sleepy sort of smoulder to them? Yukhei’s standards for beauty kept getting raised today, but this one, he set the bar.

Yeah, everyone had been gorgeous, but this guy? He took the cake. How could Yukhei be expected to believe that this was a real person?

His skin was— it was probably weird to describe people with food, right? Still, his skin was absolutely golden, sort of like caramel, with a natural sheen that seemed to be more than just sweat. Almost like he was glowing. The man’s hair was cropped on the sides and effortlessly pushed back from his face save for a few strands that broke loose and grazed his forehead, all of it a light shade of brown that was rather cool-toned.

Yukhei realised he’d been staring for a few seconds and cleared his throat, nodding. “That’d be great. Thank you . . .”

“Jongin,” he supplied, lips tugging at the edges in a faint smile as he stepped forward. Yukhei knew that he’d probably made a bit of a fool of himself but, oddly enough, no one seemed surprised, or even bothered by it, really; Jongin just had a patient, kind expression painted across his features as he told the others he’d catch up with him later, and then it was just them. Yukhei and Jongin — a literal angel.

It was . . . Yukhei wouldn’t say it was awkward, not really, because the silence that settled between them as they walked was pretty comfortable and relaxed, but _Yukhei_ felt awkward. A few times he sucked in a breath like he was about to speak, but then he’d stop himself. Every so often his eyes were drawn towards Jongin despite his best efforts, like a moth to a flame — he was physically incapable of resisting.

“How are you feeling?” Jongin asked at one point, his vis voice like liquid velvet. “I heard it did quite the number on you.”

“Okay. A lot better than I expected to be, that’s for sure, it’s like—“ Yukhei cut himself off with a small chuckle. “Well, it is probably magic, right? Whatever that drink was really fixed things up.”

“Ambrosia—“ yep, that was it “—is amazing like that. They were worried about giving it to you at first, in case you were just human, because it would’ve killed you, but without it . . .” Even though Yukhei had suspected that he’d been in a lot worse condition than Baekhyun made out earlier, hearing the confirmation made him a little sick. “It’s good that you’re feeling better, though. Make sure to let yourself rest for a few days.”

Yukhei nodded. Was he blushing? Probably not, but there was definitely a bit of warmth in his cheeks and, really, who could blame him? Jongin wasn’t exactly doting on him, but being the subject of his attention had an effect on him that he’d never really experienced before; different to the other people that Jongin had been with before. Part of him longed to ask if it was somehow, you know, magic, but he didn’t want to make _that much_ of a fool of himself, especially not in front of a handsome guy.

Two floors up in the elevator and then they were stepping out onto another unfamiliar floor, though this one was pointedly far more active, with voices and people bustling everywhere. After only a few meters they rounded a corner, moving past a group congregated in the hall that watched them as they did so, and then Jongin held one of the doors open for him as he stepped into what was, presumably, the dining hall.

It was extremely modern and almost cafeteria-like except it was far more casual and comfortable looking, with numerous areas occupied with lots of unfamiliar people. To one side there were tables where small groups were eating their dinner as they talked and to another there was an assortment of mismatched couches and coffee tables, but the middle was what really caught his attention. It was a fairly large, open space with beanbags scattered everywhere as well as two large tables towards the rear laden with a variety of foods, which was amazing in itself, but the real show-stopper was the literal _fire_ in the centre.

It wasn’t a bomb fire, but it wasn’t exactly a small one, either, and though the room had high ceilings and large windows on the far wall there still should’ve been an overwhelming presence of smoke that was distinctly lacking. Probably due to the fact that the smoke simply disappeared a foot or two above the flames, like . . . well, magic.

This was going to take a lot of getting used to.

The rear wall was one continuous panel of glass that overlooked the street below and the adjoining ones were plastered with a variety of coloured banners, all sporting motifs he didn’t recognise.

“Are you right from here?” Yukhei blinked slowly and then tore his gaze away from the fire to redirect it back to Jongin. Oh, of course. Even though he had no reason to be he couldn’t help but feel disappointed that this was where they split.

“I think so. Thank you, hyung.” In hindsight, he probably should’ve asked to call him that first, but if the way Jongin smiled one of those faint, private smiles at him was anything to go by then he didn’t seem to mind.

“I’ll see you around, Yukhei.”

He forced himself not to be creepy and watch the other walk away, instead scanning his eyes around the room until he spotted— okay, yeah, there was a familiar face. Ten noticed him approaching pretty quickly and waved him over as though that would hurry the process, patting the empty seat beside him with a smile and saying something to the others at the table that he obviously couldn’t hear. Even without knowing whether he’d show up or not, Ten had saved him a seat? Yukhei never could’ve anticipated that but it made him smile despite himself as he finally reached the table and sat down, scooting his chair in.

Mark, Baekhyun, Taeyong, they were all people he knew, too, though there was no Taemin and there were two boys at the table he hadn’t met yet. “Were you okay getting here?” Someone else spoke before he could.

“Of course he did — didn’t you see? He came in with _Kim Jongin_ ,” a boy with extremely light blue-grey hair and an innocent face but a rather mischievous and playful glint in his eye mused, making Mark choke on his food with a small protest of, “ _Jungwoo_.” Yukhei wasn’t sure why there was so much emphasis on Jongin’s name or why Jungwoo made it sound so scandalous and note-worthy but, then again, he could sort of understand given his first encounter with the man in question. Jongin seemed to have quite an effect on people. Ten instantly narrowed his gaze in on him in a way that was more amused than anything, if a little curious.

“Oh? How did that happen?”

Yukhei felt like all eyes at the table were on him. “I got a little lost on my way back,” he admittedly sheepishly, “so he helped me find you again.” His roommate seemed like he was desperate to ask more questions but reigned them in — satisfied for now or not wanting to make him uncomfortable, Yukhei wasn’t sure, but he was thankful regardless.

“Let’s get you some dinner, then. You must be starving.” Yukhei’s stomach growled in agreement and cause a bit of laughter.

Later, as he sat around the table and listened to everyone’s conversations (most of it things he didn’t understand yet), Yukhei found his gaze wandering across the room which had thinned out a little and landing on another table much further away that was occupied by mostly unfamiliar faces. It was Jongin’s he was drawn to, though, with a dreamy little smile curling on his lips. Maybe — _just maybe_ — this place wouldn’t be so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always I don't have a beta and I only do a quick proofread before posting so apologies for any mistakes!


	3. chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yukhei feels like an absolute disaster, until he doesn't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote 80% of this tonight, fuelled by weeks of procrastination and some yummy soup. I'm in the middle of a bad migraine cluster (two weeks and counting) so it's been very, very hard to sit down and write since when I'm in lulls I'm usually way too tired to try.
> 
> Hope you're all having a wonderful week! Take care of yourself.
> 
> This chapter got away from me, as usual. Love how this was supposed to be 3k word fic max and now most chapters are double that. Boo boo the fool, that's me.

“Look, I really don’t think this is a good idea—“

“Nonsense,” Baekhyun barked out with a grin. Without any warning there was a flash of silver and, before Yukhei’s mind could ever really comprehend the movement, his body was moving of its own accord; a considerable weight landed in his palm and his fingers clamped around it instantly, catching the cool metal with ease despite the fact he flinched away with the expectation of something hitting him. His eyes were squeezed shut and remained so for a moment even after the chaos subsided.

“See? You’re a natural.” A huff. “Gods, it’s a sword, not a _snake_ — it’s not going to bite you.”

Just like that Yukhei’s eyes snapped open and once he realised that Baekhyun was right and that he was, in fact, holding a sword, his grip loosened a little and the hilt began to drop from his grip. Of course, the first thing he did was _panic_. The more he fumbled and tried to stop its descent to the ground the more the situation spiralled out of control; Baekhyun shouted something that he didn’t quite catch and before he could consider that grabbing at a blade wasn’t the best idea something sharp and white-hot was blossoming in his palm. Yukhei winced and instantly yanked his hand away, cradling it to his chest as the sword clattered onto the floor noisily.

Gods, why did he think it was a good idea to throw a _literal fucking sword at the new guy_. The closest Yukhei had ever come to a sword was a kitchen knife, and that was an extremely poor comparison. Honestly, they were lucky that it wasn’t worse — that he’d only cut his hand rather than losing some fingers, or toes, or something else completely. Fuck; it hurt, too. _Really_ hurt.

Neither of them dared to speak at first, Yukhei staring at the fallen sword with burning ears and a bloody hand and Baekhyun staring at him with a mix of exasperation and disbelief.

“Please don’t tell anyone about this,” Yukhei finally murmured shamefully. Gods, he wanted the floor to swallow him whole at that point. “Ten will never let me live it down.”

Baekhyun looked like he wanted to argue for a moment as his eyes sparkled in a way that Yukhei had come to associate with mischief. Thankfully, he let it go. Good. Yuhei deserved some petty considering he was the one who was bleeding out (an exaggeration, but still). “Okay, _okay_ , I won’t tell anyone, promise. Let’s go get you patched up before you get blood everywhere.”

Yukhei appreciated that Baekhyun had been so patient with him, especially given that most people would’ve given up within the first few minutes. A week and a half ago he’d woken up here and today he’d finally had the nerve to take the elder up on his offer to show him some of the more unique aspects of this place. Yukhei regretted it. Deeply.

Time and time again he’d been reassured that he didn’t _need_ to do anything to stay here and that this would always be a home for him if he so desired, but that didn’t change the fact that Yukhei couldn’t bear to just sit around and do nothing, especially after what they’d already done for him. “Not everyone are fighters,” Taeyong told him only yesterday, “and even those who can don’t have to. We just like to make sure everyone’s able to defend themselves, at least.” That didn’t mean a little bit of self-defence or martial arts, though Mark had generously supplied that it was good for them to know that, too, but rather things with, you know, weapons.

Not even just knives like he’d seen Taeyong tossing about. No, this room — one of the numerous armouries according to Baekhyun — was packed to the brim with just about every weapon Yukhei’s mind could think of, and plenty that he’d never seen before. It was hard to fathom how a place like this could just exist in the heart of the city, unknown to the rest of the world. Hell, it was even harder to fathom that _any_ of this was real, but by the third day, Yukhei had come to terms with the fact he wasn’t going to wake up in his own bed.

That didn’t mean he was used to any of it, though.

It wasn’t home, not by a long shot, but it wasn’t . . . it was good. He had a great roommate who never failed to make him laugh and was an absolute riot to be around (which was worth hearing late-night giggles or regularly feeling like a third wheel whenever Taemin was around. Yukhei had no problems hanging out in Mark and Jungwoo’s room to give them some, uh, privacy) and burgeoning friendships just about everywhere. As much as he hated to admit it at first, he fit in here.

Yukhei was a people person through and through, but could he really say that he’d ever truly felt like this before? That he belonged, _truly_ , for the first time in his life? No matter how foreign all of this was to him, it just clicked. Unlike most things he’d picked up throughout school these things stuck rather than passing in through one ear and out the next. Sure, it was all a little bit intricate and confusing, but he was quickly learning — Greek Mythology 101 was what he’d been focusing on ever since his arrival.

It was easier to understand a lot of things now that he knew the basics. Plenty of the demigods here had parents who were considered minor gods, like Taeyong who’s mother was Hecate; from what Yukhei understood she was a little scary but very magical, which at least partially resonated with her son. Taeyong was one of the sweetest people he knew but the things he could do— well. Maybe he was just a _little_ bit scary when he let those phantom snakes of his out.

For one, he at least knew which gods were which, which certainly helped in his everyday life. For the most part, everyone’s heritage made sense once he figured it out, like Taeyong’s to a degree. Mark also made a lot of sense given how bright and cheerful his friend was, and there was no denying that he had an incredible affinity for music. Baekhyun was probably one of the most carefree individuals that Yukhei had ever come across and was constantly getting into some sort of mischief, but Yukhei was man enough to admit that he was also a little scary. For one, he seemed to handle every weapon they came across with ease, and when he did get angry (which was incredibly rare) there was always a look in his eye that made him feel sick.

Considering that Nike was the goddess of victory, it made sense that Ten — _mr-i-never-lose_ — was her son. Taemin was a little more of a mystery considering that Yukhei didn’t know as much about him, but Ten insisted that was just because Taemin was shy around new people. Hard to believe, but he’d take his word for it. Athena, as far as he remembered, was associated with war and wisdom — the latter Yukhei could see, certainly, and whilst Taemin certainly looked as though he’d be able to hold his own in some sort of fight he’d never once seen him show any inkling for the excessive training and games the others participated in. More often than not he was off to the side, watching; making sure they weren’t being reckless.

“Taemin doesn’t really fight anymore,” Baekhyun had explained to him briefly. “It’s a long story but he just . . . doesn’t like it. His shoulder always gives him trouble as well so he has to be careful.”

And then there was Jongin. Kim Jongin. Son of Aphrodite. No matter how many scraps of information Yukhei managed to collect about the older male he was still an enigma. Yukhei was probably biased but Jongin was the most gorgeous human being he’d ever seen — fitting, considering his heritage. He looked like he’d walked off the front cover of a magazine even when he was covered in sweat and cutting down the dummies in one of the training rooms like they were made of paper. Especially then, actually, because Yukhei couldn’t help the way his horny little goblin brain went haywire each and every time.

He was just— look, Yukhei liked to think that he wasn’t a shallow person, but he could appreciate a beautiful face just as much as the next person. Jongin was tall and handsome and muscular and his smile was the most enchanting thing that Yukhei had ever seen, whether it was one of those small quirks of his lips or one of the wider more genuine ones that were always accompanied by laughter, usually at something Taemin said.

Because they were friends: Taemin and Jongin. Best friends, apparently, though Yukhei thought they acted more like brothers. They bickered _constantly_ , but it was all good-natured. Yukhei wished they were close enough to bicker like that, or even just that he was man enough to have an actual conversation with the elder.

It wasn’t that Yukhei thought that a pretty face meant someone was delicate, but he still never could’ve been prepared for that third day when he’d finally braved one of the many closed doors with Mark at his side and sat in to watch as some of the residents here trained. It was an utterly surreal experience. Something that shouldn’t have been occurring outside of a movie. State of the art technology and magic that blew his mind accompanied by teens and adults alike darting around with too-sharp weapons like it was second nature for them.

He’d been wholly unprepared for the sight of Jongin off to the side, clothes soaked with sweat and hair plastered to his forehead as he took down another one of the dummies (Yukhei wasn’t sure that was a fitting word considering they seemed to be made of shimmering grey light, leaping around and attacking like they were sentient yet dissipating once they were struck) with a wide arc of the sword in his left hand. His left hand, because of course— _of course_ he had one in each, handling both like he was born for it.

Yukhei wanted him to handle _his_ sword— no. Nope. Respectful, pure thoughts only, because Jongin deserved nothing less.

Jongin looked utterly _fierce_ , like some otherworldly warrior; he moved quicker than Yukhei could follow, motions fluid like water yet with the strength of a hurricane behind each movement. The sweat left his skin glowing and his clothes clinging to his body, his muscles, showcasing the way they rippled with each and every shift.

Mark had undeniably noticed him staring but, thankfully, he hadn’t turned it into a big deal like, for example, Ten would. It was bad enough: all the teasing little comments and knowing glances thrown his way whenever Jongin wasn’t around or looking, not just from Ten but from the others, too. Even Taeyong was guilty of it. Okay— it wasn’t that bad, Yukhei was just . . . he didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of Jongin. Jongin was perfect and beautiful and just all-round incredible, but Yukhei was a mess. He was no closer to knowing who his father was, he was still learning, and he couldn’t even hold a fucking sword without messing that up, too.

“Don’t take it to heart, Yukhei. We all end up here sooner or later,” Baekhyun reassured with a steady pat on his back as they stepped into another room two floors down. This one, at least, was a little familiar, because he’d come here on his second day just to make sure that he was healing okay. He’d have scars from the encounter, sure, but that was preferable to being dead.

The infirmary was a light, open space that spanned a few rooms, separated by thin screens rather than firm walls, with lots of windows and an overwhelming sense of warmth that seemed to permeate the air. It was a welcome feeling.

“What in the world did you do to him?” A familiar voice spoke as they entered, getting up from his seat amongst a mess of unidentified jars and brushing off his pants. Moon Taeil — son of Apollo. Apparently, the cool bow guy wasn’t _just_ to do with archery and music, but also healing, which was where Taeil’s abilities apparently lay. “Weren’t you supposed to be showing him things?”

Baekhyun sighed, but the noise was fond as he nudged Yukhei forward. “I _was_ , but— he wanted to have a go and we got carried away. I should’ve been more careful.” Yukhei’s heart soared and he had to fight not to let a dopey smile break through. His hyung, so kind and considerate, taking the blame even though it was all Yukhei’s fault that he’d ended up injured. “It’s not too bad but I figured I should get him patched up.”

“Don’t worry, Yukhei, I’ll have you better in no time.”

Taeil was _great_. He’d heard, of course, just how great Taeil was, but Yukhei was yet to verify that in person. Now he could agree wholeheartedly. He already felt particularly pathetic after his little mishap and the fact that he winced and had to force himself not to flinch every time Taeil dabbed at the shallow, clean wound made him feel worse, though not as bad as he would if Taeil commented on it. He didn’t seem bothered by it at all and it certainly didn’t seem to hamper his efforts. “Sorry,” Yukhei still apologised when he flinched hard enough to dislodge the hand holding his wrist. He knew he probably looked miserable.

Taeil just chuckled, softly, in a way that was far from condescending or cruel. “It’s okay. You really don’t need to apologise, honestly — you think that everyone here is immune to pain?” There was sympathy in his eyes as he set the antiseptic to the side and reached for a bandage, then adjusted his grip and moved Yukhei’s fingers around so that he could begin wrapping it properly. “I’ve seen some of them cry over a paper cut. You’re doing good.”

He was doing good.

Good was . . . it was enough for now.

—

On one hand, Yukhei was positively thrilled that he was going to be able to go home; on the other, he felt sick knowing that it would only be temporary and that the purpose of the trip would only be to gather some things and say a more long-standing goodbye so that his mother didn’t worry. There was, of course, also an element of fear. The last time he’d been outside these four walls he’d ended up in a life-and-death situation that’d veered closer to the latter.

“You’ll be completely fine,” Ten promised as Yukhei fiddled with the zipper of his denim jacket for the fourth time in the past minute. There was no denying he was nervous. Adrenaline was already rearing up inside him and his knee was bouncing frantically where he sat in the lobby, Ten by his side. It was the first time he’d come down here, to the ground floor, and he’d been surprised to see it looked like the lobby of some sort of office building, complete with a front desk and plants; there were even gossip magazines on the low table a few feet away. Very authentic.

Yukhei stared out the glass windows and tried not to let bile rise up any further.

He wasn’t going alone, of course. Taemin had reassured that he’d find someone to accompany him just in case and to assist with the whole process. It made him feel . . . maybe just a little bit better.

The elevator dinged a few feet away to signal an arrival but Yukhei didn’t turn at all, lips raw and stinging as he worked them over with his teeth until a metallic taste began to become more prominent. What was he supposed to do? To say? No matter how much the others had tried to offer their own words of wisdom he still felt completely and utterly lost— how could he possibly say goodbye to his mother, indefinitely? He knew that logically she’d be safer without him around, but Yukhei would be leaving her all alone, and . . . gods.

“Are you ready to get going?” Taemin’s voice washed over his sense and Yukhei finally forced himself to get with the program, standing up tensely and brushing off his thighs as his eyes flickered to focus on the elder and the man beside him. _Oh_. “Jongin volunteered to take you. Not that anything will happen, but even if it does you have nothing to worry about with him around.”

Yukhei didn’t doubt it. He’d already observed some incredibly talented people here but, in his eyes, there wasn’t anyone who could compare; there was no one who he’d feel safer going with. That didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t been expecting this. Now he was faced with what could be hours where it was just him and Jongin — alone.

It wasn’t a date — it was Jongin making sure he didn’t get turned into an all-you-can-eat buffet for monsters while he turned his back on everything he’d ever known.

Jongin looked incredible as always. That was far from a surprise. That being said, it was a different look to what Yukhei was used to seeing around the tower, something more refined and polished, and if he’d thought that Jongin looked like a model before, well, it had nothing on now. Black, artfully stressed jeans clung to his legs, though the matching black turtleneck was even tighter, if that was possible, clinging to every contour of his chest in a way that made Yukhei’s mouth a little bit dry. Tying it all together was a long, tan coat that hung from his shoulders, unbuttoned. Ash brown hair was slicked back off his forehead in a way that seemed utterly effortless. It made Yukhei feel wholly undressed in his denim jacket, white t-shirt and black pants. Probably didn’t help that it looked like he hadn’t slept all night (spoiler: he hadn’t. The past few nights he’d been restless and on edge when night came, often plagued by obscure, unpleasant dreams that seemed to grow more frequent and edge closer to full-blown nightmares with each night that passed).

“I— yeah, I’m ready. Are you sure, though? I don’t want to be a bother or anything.” Jongin smiled at him, then, and he felt some of that tension melt away.

“Like Taemin said, I volunteered — it’s been a while since I’ve been out. Besides, I have a bit of experience when it comes to this sort of thing,” the elder admitted with a shrug. “Unless you’d rather someone else—“

“No!” Okay, shit, maybe he said that a little too quick, a little too loud, because Ten’s eyes shifted over with a glimmer that meant he wasn’t going to be forgetting this anytime soon, but Yukhei couldn’t help it. He didn’t want Jongin thinking he had a problem with him. Not when it was the complete opposite.

“I mean, no, of course not. Thanks for offering to come along, hyung,” Yukhei offered after a moment in a manner that was much calmer.

“We better get going then.” He dawdled for just a few seconds, saying goodbye to Ten and Taemin (he didn’t even want to think about the things that were probably about to happen in their room), and then stepping closer to Jongin’s side as they headed for the doors.

Yukhei supposed that there was a small part of him that expected something horrific to happen the moment they stepped out onto the street, but instead there was . . . nothing. Just the bustling city that was oblivious to his internal crisis. A warm hand settled on his shoulder and jolted him out of his stupor. When Yukhei looked over, there was a knowing look on Jongin’s face. “I won’t let anything happen, Yukhei.” He’d only known Jongin for just under two weeks, but he still believed him.

Once they were settled into the backseats of the cab that the elder had flagged down Yukhei did manage to calm down enough that his heart wasn’t hammering like a rabbit the whole time. For the most part, they just sat in a comfortable silence as the taxi slowly carried them through the busy streets, listening to the top hits playing quietly over the car radio, but it was sort of, well, nice.

The last time he’d been alone with Jongin was that first night when he’d gotten lost; each and every following time which was usually at least at one point during his day had been in the company of others. For the most part, they hadn’t even shared direct conversations, at least not one-on-one. Part of that was due to the fact that Yukhei always found himself clamming up when it came to Jongin. It’s just— Jongin was intimidating, okay? Not in a scary way, but rather in the way that meant he was unrealistically attractive and kind and quiet enough for the most part that Yukhei didn’t want to bother him or give the other male a reason not to like him.

It was all silly, really. Yukhei knew that he was an idiot for being so hung up over things like this. What did it matter if Jongin liked him or not? Jongin was five years his senior and painfully out of his league, though even if they were the same age Yukhei felt like he’d never stand a chance. It wasn’t that he didn’t have confidence in himself (because Yukhei had always been decently comfortable in his own skin and hadn’t ever really dealt with such thoughts) but that Jongin was just . . . something else entirely.

Even now he couldn’t help but shoot glances at the other male every so often, glancing out of the corner of his eye as discreetly as he could. It should’ve been illegal for anyone to have such a perfect side profile. There was something content in Jongin’s eyes as he watched the passing city through the window, but there was also something a little more . . . wistful, maybe? He didn’t know Jongin well enough to really decipher it. In close proximity like this, only one seat apart, Yukhei felt like all he could smell was the other’s cologne — it was a nice scent, something potent without being too strong, a perfect balance between sweet and spiced. It was warm, just like Jongin.

Yukhei was no stranger to crushes, but he wasn’t sure that he’d ever felt like waxing poetics about someone’s perfume before.

Even though his mother’s apartment wasn’t that far from the tower in the grand scheme of things it took a solid twenty minutes to get there, maybe even closer to thirty, but eventually they were stepping out onto a familiar stretch of pavement. It felt like he hadn’t been here in months. “I don’t know if I can do this,” Yukhei admitted despite himself as they stared at the small complex., hands practically dripping where they were tucked in the pockets of his pants. “Maybe I should wait.”

“In my experience, the longer you put it off, the harder it is,” Jongin offered quietly. “It might not be much, but . . . you’re not alone, Yukhei. I’m going to be with you the whole time, unless you’d rather do it alone.” There was no judgement or expectation in the other’s tone which almost made it worse, in a way. Yukhei didn’t want to have to make decisions right now. To be frank, he wanted to run and hide.

“Thank you, hyung,” Yukhei murmured. “Would you . . . I’d like it if you came in with me.” He didn’t want to do this alone. He wasn’t even sure if he could do it by himself, honestly, and it helped that he trusted Jongin. After all, Jongin had been through this too, right? Nearly everyone at the tower must have in some way or another. Yukhei wasn’t alone, even if there was an overwhelming weight of isolation and guilt hanging over him.

“Of course.”

Every step towards the building added to the pressure. Each step had him swallowing down the acid that rose up in his throat. By the time Yukhei stopped in front of the door he genuinely felt like he was going to be sick, or pass out, or maybe he’d get a two-in-one and do both, probably at the same time, but his saving grace was that familiar, reassuring presence at his back. He could do this, all he had to do was knock.

So he did.

Only a few seconds later the lock scraped a little and the door swung open, revealing the familiar face of his mother who stared at him in shock for all of one moment before pulling him forward into a bone-crushing hug. Gods, how he’d missed this.

It wasn’t _easy_ , but then again, Yukhei had never expected it to be. That being said it was still easier than he’d feared with someone in his corner. Whenever Yukhei found himself lost for words or his mind going blank it was Jongin who stepped in to help him, playing the dutiful part of a new friend from the university, who seemed to have his mother eating out of his palm within a matter of seconds.

Yukhei knew that Jongin was charming, but it was still jarring to see the way his mother seemed to hang onto his every word, eyes sparkling. When he’d first walked in she’d wrapped him up in her arms and started fawning over him, yet the moment Jongin had opened his mouth she’d become more . . . subdued didn’t seem like the right word but Yukhei wasn’t sure how else to describe it.

There were countless holes in his story. For starters, the semester didn’t start for another two months, yet his mother bought into the lie that he’d gotten a scholarship which would need him to stay on campus, and even if any of that was remotely true there was no way he’d be moving in so quickly, with no other preparations. He certainly wouldn’t have just disappeared that day to a friends house, either, and Yukhei would’ve come home before heading off again. He’d always been a mammas boy, after all.

His mother was a smart, perceptive woman that Yukhei’d never been able to get things past, yet she was buying into this with no questions.

It was because Yukhei knew his mother so well that he was able to recognise that there was something else at work here. She seemed dazed as Jongin spoke, her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee that was slowly growing cold; she hadn’t even taken one sip from it since they’d all sat down in the living room. Jongin’s voice seemed to fall over them like a low, warm lull, something that made it near impossible to listen, except it was normal to Yukhei — his magnetism, his charisma, his charm. Jongin affected him in a way that no one else ever had, but it didn’t affect him like how it seemed to affect his mother.

“Don’t worry,” Jongin chuckled with a wide grin that had his eyes crinkling, “we’ll definitely take good care of him. You have my word.” Something sad flickered over his mother’s face and it absolutely broke his heart.

“Good,” she murmured, “I’m glad. He’s not as strong as he looks, you know, he’s a really sensitive boy, and he needs—“

“Mum,” Yukhei half-whined as his cheeks grew red hot. At least Jongin seems to find the whole thing quite amusing, but Yukhei just felt embarrassed.

“Oh hush, go pack your bags,” his mother shooed him off despite the faint wetness in her eyes. “If you’re not quick I’ll break out the baby albums.” She never pulled her punches, did she? If Yukhei was embarrassed before then now he was absolutely mortified, and a little terrified at the prospect of Jongin seeing the contents of those albums. He wasn’t sure he’d ever recover from such a thing — which was why he quickly relented and ducked into the hallway to head to his room.

Yukhei knew that he couldn’t take everything, but it was still rather difficult to pick and choose what he was going to take back with him. After all, he wants sure the next time he was going to be able to come home again; from what he’d heard so far it was pretty obvious that the chances would be few and far between. Most of the others in the tower hadn’t seen their families in years. Yukhei wasn’t sure how he was going to deal with that.

In the end, he tried to be logical about it all (and hurried a little with the threat of Jongin seeing him in all his horrifying toddler glory, probably naked, hanging over his head) and began to pack his duffel bag. Clothes were obviously something he needed, but Yukhei also knew that he could buy more, so he made sure not to fill his whole bag with just that. He packed his chargers and his laptop, as well as some other things like cologne and jewellery, and then a few photos he had tucked away on his shelf; his friends, of course, and his mother.

Yukhei stood in the doorway and stared at his room for a few moments, throat all tight and strained, and then he stepped back and closed the door as he shrugged his bag up onto his shoulder. He was quiet enough as he walked back down the hallway that the pair in the living room didn’t seem to realise that he’d returned. He wasn’t really sure why he stayed there at the entrance to the other room rather than announcing his presence, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it just yet.

“He _is_ lovely,” Jongin spoke as though he was agreeing with something his mother just said. There was . . . the look on his face was something that Yukhei wasn’t used to seeing, in fact, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen it, actually. It was oddly vulnerable, actually. It caught him off guard. The more he thought about it he supposed that, even though he’d seen Jongin a lot and witnessed him interacting with his friends, it’d always been in a public, social setting, and there’d always been an element of . . . not _pretence_ , because Jongin seemed like a very genuine person, but more like there was always an element of reservation.

“He’s doing really well, but I know this isn’t easy on him. If there was another way then I know that he wouldn’t be leaving like this, but it’s what’s best for him right now.”

“Yukhei’s always been a selfless boy, even when he was a kid.” His mother’s voice wobbled a little as she spoke. “He never puts himself first, so I’m glad that he’s got this opportunity, even if it’s going to be hard on him at first. I’ve got to keep reminding myself that he’s not my little baby anymore.”

Jongin leaned forward and reached out to cover his mother’s hands with his own. “You’ve raised a wonderful young man.” It made Yukhei’s heart flutter just a little bit (okay, maybe a lot) to hear the elder speak about him in such a way. Was that really how Jongin saw him?

Yukhei stepped forward and purposefully made a little bit of noise as he moved as he pretended to just be coming out. His mother shifted to look at him and sat up a little straighter, but Jongin didn’t seem overly surprised to see him; instead he just squeezed her hands one last time before pulling back. “Got everything?”

Yukhei’s head bobbed with a nod and, for his mother’s sake, he pulled up a carefree, happy smile. “Yep, or at least everything I can carry,” he chuckled. When he walked over to join them they all stood and Yukhei came to a stop by Jongin’s side, shifting a little on his feet before he turned to his mother.

“Sorry that I sprung this all on you so quick, mum.” It took everything in him not to let his voice wobble. “But I promise that I’ll stay safe, and that I’ll come to visit whenever I can— and if you need me at all just ring me, okay? I don’t want you to have to—“

“I’ll be fine,” she interrupted as she pulled him into a firm hug. She was a solid foot shorter than him (so he’d probably gotten his height from his father) so her head only came up to his chest. “Don’t you worry about me, Wong Yukhei — I want you to go and enjoy yourself, you hear me? Make friends, have fun, live your life as best you can. You’re an adult, now, so make the most of it.” After a few painful moments she pulled back, brushing down his jacket needlessly and straightening the lapels as she’d always done when he was a child, not quite meeting his eyes just yet, which was probably a good thing considering his were growing misty despite himself.

“And try to stay out of trouble,” she chided. “Jongin here will tell me if you cause too much, right?”

“Of course,” Jongin answered, bumping their shoulders together. Traitor. Yukhei found himself nudging back before he could second guess himself and they shared a small, secret smile that had his heart skipping a beat.

His shoulder still sunk as the apartment door closed behind them, finally, but Jongin was right there for him, just as he had been ever since they’d left the tower; even when it felt as though Yukhei’s legs were going to give out the warm, broad hand which settled below his shoulder blades gave him some newfound strength and kept him from dropping to the ground. “You did it,” Jongin reassured as he lead him down the stairs, coming to a stop just off to the side of them and shifting to stand in front of him so that he could squeeze his shoulders. Yukhei didn’t want to cry but he couldn’t stop his eyes burning, nor the way they were undoubtedly red and filled with moisture. “It’s okay, Yukhei, you did amazing. I’m proud of you.”

It took Yukhei a few minutes to get himself back under control but thankfully no tears actually spilt over during that time. It was a small victory, but it was a victory nonetheless. Yukhei would take whatever he could get right now. It was only a short wait for a cab but Yukhei stared out the window at the familiar complex until it was out of sight completely, only looking away once there was no sign of it at all.

“You know what I haven’t had in ages?” Jongin mused from the seat beside him. When Yukhei looked over and cocked his head a near mischievous grin curled across plush lips. “Some good barbecue. What do you say? My treat, of course.”

“Can we do that?” Yukhei was sort of under the impression that they had to be back as soon as they could.

“Of course we can. So, sound good?” Yukhei wasn’t oblivious, okay — he knew just from the way that Jongin had posed the question that this was likely an effort to cheer him up, even if Jongin did probably want to grab some food. Even if he could see through it, it was appreciated.

“I’d like that, hyung.”

If Ten — or _anyone_ — asked him later, then Yukhei wasn’t going to tell them about this. This . . . this was something special, something he wanted to keep just for himself without any sort of teasing or joking about. Maybe it was partially due to the tiredness that’d settled into his bones after the meeting with his mother, or maybe it was just because it was impossible not to feel comfortable around Jongin, but Yukhei found himself relaxing quite quickly.

It was a small, back-alley restaurant they settled into, something quiet and homey that only added to the atmosphere. The tables were small enough, and they were tall enough, that their knees knocked together under the table constantly and their hands often bumped into each other when they reached for things; Jongin insisted on not only paying but also grilling and preparing everything for them. He refused to take no as an answer and each time Yukhei tried to help he’d bat his hands away playfully and tell him to be patient.

The food was delicious, too, but Yukhei thought that maybe it was even tastier just because Jongin had cooked it for him.

They talked while they ate, from chatter about their friends (like how Mark was painfully oblivious to the fact that Yuta was not only flirting with him, that he was flirting back without realising. Yuta had been scary at first, especially considering his father was literally the god of the underworld, but Yukhei thought he was pretty cool, and his younger brother Shotaro was really nice, too) or casual, playful banter that had him trying, and failing to fight back smiles and laughter. It didn’t take long for him to give up on holding them back completely, especially when he was getting the same in return.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Yukhei insisted through laughter, mostly empty plates spread before them. “Baekhyun just _threw it at me_ and I panicked — what else was I supposed to do?” He’d been mortified at the prospect of anyone finding out the truth behind the bandage on his hand the other day, yet today he shared the truth freely without any fear of judgement.

` “Likely story,” Jongin snorted, knocking their feet together, and when Yukhei opened his mouth to protest against that a pair of chopsticks shoved the last piece of chicken into his mouth, cutting him off. Yukhei squawked around the food but chewed and swallowed diligently, cheeks a little pink.

Once he was finished, Yukhei cleared his throat a little and refolded the napkin under his hand, smoothing out the creases his fingers had put in it even if there were small stains from their meal. “I wanted to ask you about something if that’s okay?” he asked, glancing up at the brunet relatively demurely.

“Of course.” Jongin leaned back in his seat with sleepy eyes and a content smile. “Ask away.”

“Earlier, when you were talking to my mum . . . was that . . . your voice did this _thing_ , and she seemed to get really passive, if that makes sense. Was that something special, like, magic?” Jongin was silent for a few seconds before he let out a barely audible chuckle, something subdued and a little wry as he ducked his gaze down to the table.

“Smart. Most people don’t pick up on it, at least not so quickly.” Jongin didn’t sound upset, per se, but definitely a little resigned. It made Yukhei feel more than a bit guilty for asking, but Ten had told him that he should always ask if he had questions rather than keeping them to himself. “Magic . . . I guess you can call it that, yeah. Most of us inherit some sort of ability from our godly parents, but mine is pretty different from most of my siblings. The ones I know, at least. As a kid I was always felt like I was good at getting what I wanted, but I probably started developing it way back then, really, without even knowing it.”

“It only works on mortals, but if I really, really try sometimes I can influence demigods, too, but not much. I can’t make them do things they don’t want, only encourage them to act on things, but humans?” The laugh that left Jongin’s lips wasn’t a happy sound. “I learnt the hard way that I can get them to do just about anything. I don’t even have to _try_ anymore, I just talk and they . . . they act. It’s _not_ making them do things that’s the hard part.”

“Anything I wanted, I could have. Anything I wanted someone to do, they’d do. I had no clue what I was doing until things started going wrong and I met Taemin.” Yukhei couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like. To find out one day that you couldn’t trust anything people did or said because your own words might’ve forced them into it. Here Yukhei was, complaining because he had to leave home, but at least he had the chance to visit occasionally and the only worry he’d have was monsters. Jongin had to worry about monsters, but he had so much more beyond that.

“I think if someone asked me if I wanted to be able to make people do anything I wanted a few weeks back, I would’ve said it sounded cool,” Yukhei murmured very quietly, “but I never thought about it like that. It’s not fair that you have to deal with that— you don’t deserve it.” Whatever Jongin must’ve been expecting him to say, that obviously wasn’t it; brown eyes widened enough for him to notice and his lips parted ever so slightly. They sort of just stared at each other for a second, and then the elder broke out into a blinding smile and shook his head slowly.

“I don’t think anyone's ever said that to me before,” he snickered. “Thank you, Yukhei, I appreciate that. It’s just the luck of the draw, though; even though we’re half-human, there’s a reason we can’t just live amongst them normally, and it’s not just the monsters.”

Earlier,Jongin had said that it’d been a while since he’d been out and, at that time, Yukhei hadn’t thought much of it. Now it made much more sense.

“Thank you,” Yukhei offered. “For helping with my mother, I mean, even if it’s not something you like doing. I couldn’t have done it without you today.”

Jongin always shone bright, but here, like this, where it was just them with the rest of the world drowning out, he was absolutely blinding. It was like looking at the sun: it hurt and he knew that he should stop, but he couldn’t. Like a moth to a flame, Yukhei was utterly entranced. “You really are something else, aren’t you, Yukhei?”

Yukhei didn’t get a chance to ask what he meant by that before Jongin was standing up and shrugging his tan coat back on. Instead he tried to savour every last moment — who knew when they’d be alone again like this. “We should get back before it gets dark, or everyone will start to worry. We’ve had to be a lot more careful lately.”

Yukhei stuck right by the elder’s side right up until they stepped out of the elevator, the sleek silver doors closing behind them and leaving them standing face to face on the floor that held a good number of bedrooms.

Jongin broke the silence between them. “I meant what I said earlier, you know?”

“Huh?”

“About training. Baekhyun’s great, but he’s not that much of a fighter, really — if you _wanted_ ,I could help you out here and there when it comes to the more practical stuff.”

 _“Maybe you just need a good teacher_ , _”_ Yukhei remembered the other joking over lunch. From what he’d heard, Jongin was one of the best fighters here, not just with his swords but apparently pretty much everything in the armoury. If anything he was probably the best teacher here, except Yukhei knew that he’d definitely heard Jungwoo and Mark talking about how he pretty much always trained alone. He remembered Mark saying how the few times he’d managed to convince Jongin to run through some drills with him it’d been pretty intense but also the best sessions he’d ever had.

Yukhei didn’t give himself enough time to begin to worry over the details of it all. Hell, he didn’t even really give himself time to get nervous. “I’d love that, actually,” Yukhei agreed, pushing his fringe back with a wide, genuine grin. He hoped his ears weren’t too red. “As long as you don’t throw swords at me.”

“No promises,” Jongin teased with a chuckle, taking a slow step backwards, then another. “We’ll sort the details out later, okay?”

And they did. It was the seat next to Jongin that he got to sit in that night at dinner and despite how exhausted he was there was no killing the buzz under his skin as he and Jongin quietly discussed the elder’s earlier proposal, getting everything set in stone. He was barely able to hide his excitement at the prospect of getting to spend even more time with Jongin.

It was worth the looks they got all through dinner and the way Ten kept kicking his foot under the table and arching his brow in a way that was probably supposed to be discreet. At least no one actually said anything.

That night Yukhei laid in bed with a giant, dopey smile on his face, fingers laced behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. His eyes kept closing of their own volition, lids heavy, but there was a light, bubbly feeling in his chest and a warmth that’d settled into his very bones. It was a feeling he’d come to associate with Jongin.

“Have a good day, did you?” Ten asked from his side of the room, voice suspiciously innocent. Yukhei didn’t even turn his head at all, just let his eyes finally close for good.

“It wasn’t so bad.” Yukhei was pretty sure he fell asleep with a smile still on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is unbeta-ed, so apologies for any mistakes!
> 
> Characters mentioned so far, and their respective parents:
> 
> Taemin (Athena)  
> Jongin (Aphrodite)  
> Baekhyun (Dionysus)  
> Ten (Nike)  
> Taeyong (Hecate)  
> Mark (Apollo)
> 
> Yuta (Hades)  
> Jungwoo (Zeus)  
> Taeil (Apollo)  
> Shotaro (Hades)

**Author's Note:**

> as always, I don't have a beta, so apologies for any mistakes.
> 
> comments and kudos are always welcome ♡ there's nothing I love more than interacting with you all and hearing your thoughts on things.


End file.
